Ghosts Helping Ghosts
by ShurtugalSkulblaka
Summary: Treadstone burned her. Tried to kill her. She knows their ways and their methods , so what happens when she turns all their knowledge and tactics against them? She knows she is not the only case like this and she wants to do something to help. The question is what? Set some in Identity and Ultimatum, but mostly after the events in Bourne Legacy
1. Prolouge& Chapter 1 Beginnings

**Legacy worked out really well so I could write this fanfic cause if certain things had happened I rly would have been screwed trying to write this. I'm glad everything worked out so, here it is: my bourne fanfiction hope you enjoy.**

**Chapter 1- Beginnings**

The heat glared down on the shoulders of the group of soldiers, reflecting off the golden sand covering the ground. One of the soldiers walked away from the rest of the group with her rifle held downward. She looked across the never-ending desert, but everything was as normal, boring, as ever. Sand and sun nothing more and nothing to shoot at.

_At least we aren't in any danger. It could be worse,_ she thought.

"See anything, Lieutenant?" one of the soldiers called.

She laughed shifting her rifle to her other arm, "Of course not. I guess that's good, though."

"Man, it's hot as hell out here," another soldier said.

"Tell us something we don't know," the Lieutenant said. "Well, they aren't here so there's no use staying. Let's move!"

The group packed back into the two tan armored Hummers with the Lieutenant at the wheel of the lead vehicle. They took off through the thick sand, tracking east on a non-existent road. The shade of the roof provided some escape from the sweltering heat, but not much, not enough.

"How many more days do we have?" asked one of the soldiers.

"Counting today: 24. That is if the General doesn't kill us when we get back," said the Lieutenant with a laugh.

"Now why would he do that?" one of the soldiers asked sarcastically.

"Why_ wouldn't_ he?" the Lieutenant said.

"He loves us Lizzy, you know that," teased another soldier.

"It's Lieutenant Groves to you," she said. "Don't disrespect someone who could kill you before you can scream for help."

The Lieutenant broke into a smile, shaking her head, and continuing to drive as a frightened expression fell over the soldier's face.

"Hey, Lieutenant, when we get back do you think-"

The soldier's words were never finished, the Hummers were flipped in a fiery explosion hotter than the desert sand. The explosion rocked the ground and shot a column of sand high into the air. The only thing left of the army Hummers was a scattered wake of debris. The soldiers laid bloodied and wounded on the ground, some of them -including the Lieutenant- laid motionless.

_**Six Years Later**_

_Situations will come up, learn to overcome them and continue with the task at hand. Anything can serve as a weapon._

She grabbed a lighter off the counter.

_Know if you opponent has a superior weapon. If you know they do: hide. Hiding may save your life or, better, give you a chance to use your weapon._

They were her own words, yet, they also weren't. Either way she still understood them and acted accordingly. She ducked down, walking with bent knees to a pantry, opening the white door and hiding inside. The slits between the boards on the door were just large enough for her to see through. The man tracking her walked right by the pantry door, she recoiled, holding her hand over her mouth to hide the sound of her breathing. She had been right; he was carrying a gun with a perforated cylinder attached to the end of the barrel, a silencer.

_So that's how it's going to be_, she thought.

_Disarm if they have a gun, that gun will kill faster than any other weapon you could acquire. _

The man in all black stopped in front of her, his gun held way too far out in front of him. She burst from her hiding spot and kicked the gun from his hands. The black weapon slid across the floor out of reach from both of them. She got behind him, her arm around his neck and kicked him in the back of his knees. The man slumped in her arm.

"Who do you work for?!" she exclaimed pulling him up by his neck.

"Like I would tell you," the man said hoarsely.

"Fine," she said flicking on the lighter.

She held the barrel of the lighter against the man's neck.

"Wait, wait, wait! He never gave me a name! I swear!" the man called out.

"I don't believe you," she said coldly in his ear.

She touched the end of the lighter to his black jacket, setting it to flames. She knew he was lying because it was too easy to see.

"What are you doing, you crazy _bitch_!" he screamed.

Her eyes glared at the back of his head with fury she had never felt before.

"I've never been called _crazy_ before," she said smoothly.

"You are!"

She laughed in mockery, throwing the lighter to the floor and striking the man across the the head. He fell unconscious to the floor as she picked up the lighter and the man's gun.

_Take out the threat, but focus on your task. Keep to the task, get back to it as fast as possible._

She picked up the house phone and dialed.

"I think I smell gas, I can't pull him out, please send someone fast!" she said in faking fear in her voice.

"Ma'am? Ma'am?" the operator tried to talk with her but she hung the phone up.

She took a rubber band and wrapped it around the lighter so it stayed lit. She threw it on a desk that was holding a desktop computer. She grabbed her bag she had dropped on her way in and exited the house. She cut across the lawn to the road as rescue vehicles were coming down the street. Seconds later the house went up in flames.

A phone rang in her pocket, she attached a set of headphones to it and answered it.

"_Did you get it?_" came the male voice from the phone.

"I did, sir, but there might be some _complications_," she said.

"_Don't worry about it, I'm sending a team out. Just get out of there and don't be seen,_" he said.

"I never am, I'm on my way back. Anything new on our man?"

"_Since you've been gone? Nothing. We could really use your help over here."_

She broke the glass window of a common car she found on the side of the street, popping the locks. The owner had been generous enough to leave the spare key in the center console and with little searching she found it, starting the car.

"I'm glad I'm so valuable to you, Conklin."

**So there it is, pretty short...hope you liked it again this is only my first chapter so development of plot and characters isnt that great yet just bear with me XD comment if you wish and I do appreciate constructive criticism **


	2. Bourne Again

**A/N: Alright so here's my decent sized chapter I was working on, tried to stop sooner but it wasn't as good so here you are**

**Chapter 2- Bourne Again**

She walked in the building that by the street-side would have looked like just a normal house.

"Abbey, what took you so long?" he greeted her.

"Sorry, I caused a little more commotion than I first thought. Haven't done anything like that in a while, but, you know, he threatened me; all I could do was sit by and let years of training take over," replied the woman with long brown hair and blue eyes.

The man walked past her, she started at him in his suit with his light brown hair and green eyes. She was much more under-dressed than the rest of the agents in the room with all the computers. She wore a plain black jacket over a dark blue dress shirt and jeans, but she had been working in the field, they had not. She pulled out a sealed envelope addressed to a dead man who's house she had just blown up an hour ago.

"Mail came just in time," she said with a sly smile, handing over the envelope to Conklin.

"Is it in here?" Conklin asked.

"It should be. Unless you gave me false information because I did _exactly_ as you told me to," Abbey replied.

"I didn't give you false information-"

"Then you have nothing to worry about."

Conklin placed the envelope in the inside pocket of his jacket. Abbey noticed the agents at the computers were hard at work and looked like they hadn't slept in days. She knew that feeling better than anyone in the room, save Conklin, the feeling of having to work on every ounce of power without sleep. Sleep was the most important thing to have in your arsenal it was better than any gun or weapon. Without it, Abbey knew, one could not think properly and would eventually make a mistake that could cost them. So, for Conklin to be running these agents into the ground, whatever lead they had it _had_ to be rock solid one.

"What have you picked up?" Abbey asked Conklin.

"We think we have a sighting of our man," the director of field operations replied.

"Really? Where?"

"Marseilles a few days ago, but after that he's invisible."

"Isn't that what he- we are trained to do? To be invisible?"

"Not this time, this time it's different."

Abbey logged on to a computer in between two other agents. She worked off the lead in Marseilles, but after an hour of searching came up with nothing more than they already knew. She got furious that even she could not find the link between then and now. Where could he be that was secluded enough so as even the best of the many agents could not find him? Alexander Conklin, that man amazed her at every turn, he was usually on top of every mission, but he had somehow managed to make a mistake on this one. As the director of field operations he was expected to be on top of it and Abbey knew that the higher levels would not be happy with him losing a hold on the mission. It wouldn't help his case that this mission had been very important, nor that he had lost touch with one of their most valuable assets. Conklin approached her, looking over her shoulder at the screen.

"Nothing?" he asked.

"Absolutely nothing," Abbey agreed. "Are you sure it was him in Marseilles?"

"Without a doubt, it was him, he's just..."

"What? Is something wrong?"

Conklin leaned closer to her.

"We think he may have turned," he whispered.

Abbey's eyes were trained on Conklin's, her mind trying to take in his words.

"We have a safe house for you to stay in for the night," Conklin started.

"I can sleep here if you'd like, if it's not an issue..."

"I like that you're eager, but it really isn't a problem, besides, I don't think there'd be anymore room," Conklin replied with a little bit of humor.

"Alright, where is it?" Abbey said smiling.

Conklin handed her a sealed folder, she took it and headed out of the building.

She arrived at the safe house is a little under ten minutes, but had taken winding and back roads to get there. The gray shade of dusk was slowly falling over the small Paris street. Discreetly she looked around to make sure she hadn't been followed before proceeding on foot up to the safe house door. The house was very normal for the Paris street; a polished wooden door, a few stories tall with iron railings and large, open windows. The large windows were a cover, but also a high danger, how she would deal with them she did not know yet. Abbey took the key from inside the folder and tried the door, it opened without a problem. Stepping into her temporary house the first thing she looked for were exits and possible weapons should the worst happen. She secured the lock on the door, placing a hand-made sort of trip wire at the threshold. If that door moved even a centimeter the silent alarm would trip giving her the advantage of knowledge. One thing she would not stand was to be made a fool of, a dead fool.

_Sleep is the most important thing you can have in your arsenal_. Her words previously thought of that day came into play as her eyelids started to shut. Snapping them open she got up from the gray couch and paced the living room of the house. She _would_ get some rest, but not now, not here. First, she had some things to make sure of before she subjected herself to the unawareness of sleep. She double-checked the lock on the door before tackling the problem of the large windows. She pulled the dark curtains over the windows. The metal-handled broom in the corner of the small kitchen was her solution. She pulled off the brush at the end, tightly wedging the metal rod diagonally in the largest window frame to the point of where even the force of a human body couldn't jar it out of place. In another window she tied a few pieces of rope into slip knots that she hung from key points like nooses. In the final window she laced wire in a criss-crossing pattern between the four sides behind the glass. Now she knew she could fall asleep with the semi-peace of mind that anyone trying to get through the windows would have a hell of time doing it. She took out her handgun and placed it on the bedside table in the room to the immediate right down the hallway, making sure that it was loaded with the handle facing the bed. Any person seeing what she was doing would think she was severely paranoid, but she knew that what she was preparing for was a very real threat. She would rather be paranoid just in case than not be paranoid and be in danger of losing her life.

_Bursts of gunfire exploded, running was the only thing she was focused on. Running away, away...from what?_

_What are you running from?_

_From the enemy._

_How do you know they really are the enemy?_

_They told me._

_And they always tell you the truth?_

_Silence, silence that was only broken by bursts of more gunfire._

That wasn't gunfire; something in the house had fallen. She bolted awake, sitting stock straight, silently reaching for the gun. The handle molded into her palm, as it should, wielding the deadly weapon was second-instinct to her. On top of that paranoia people would see serious mental and emotional issues. They always had, but she had proven them wrong, risen far above any of their mediocre expectations. She slowly rose from the bed and moved through the void of darkness that was the room and hallway. She walked through the kitchen, her senses heightening to try and hear any disturbance. None came, but she now saw the source of the commotion from earlier: it was a ceramic plate from one of the cupboards. It had fallen onto the floor and now lay in hundreds of tiny pieces on the wood floor. Trying not to step on the many remains of the plate, she navigated her way through the kitchen. Right about now she wanted to kick herself for not leaving a single source of light on. She had already bumped into a few corners of furniture, swearing under her breath, when she reached the other end of the house. Nothing was here, maybe she was just paranoid or needed more sleep. A fragment of her dream could have been triggered by a misplaced plate crashing to the floor. Only a _misplaced_ plate, not a plate knocked over by a trained killer trying to kill her. She stood up straight and lowered her gun. At the same time something crashed into the back of her head, sending her to the floor.

Abbey laid with her face pressed into the floor, completely stunned. Her gun lay out of her reach a few feet away and someone stood over her. They didn't speak, but proceeded to pull her up by the back of her jacket. She flailed, trying to touch the floor, but her shaking limbs wouldn't allow it. Someone had been watching her, waiting for her guard to drop for that second, and she had _given_ them that opportunity.

_Follow your instincts, it could very well save your life, your mind knows things that are betrayed to your body._

Why hadn't she listened!? She knew something was wrong, but had let the deceiving thought of safety enter her mind and relax her body. That may have cost her her life. The killer hauled her to her feet, but her legs were unwilling to support her. They did anyway, knowing her life may be hanging in the balance. The killer held her up and finally she connected a voice to a figure.

"So, Miss Woods, how does it feel to make such a major mistake?" the killer whispered in a smooth, male voice. "And such an amateur one at that."

Abbey's head hung limp between her shoulders, no response forthcoming, a gun pointed at her left temple. She could feel warm blood making a trail down the side of her face. She would not give him the satisfaction, no, that would be the very _last _thing.

"I was about to ask you the same question," Abbey responded coolly.

"Excuse me?"

Before the killer knew what was happening Abbey had grabbed his arm, twisting it as she flipped over him. She landed behind him, taking no time in kicking the weapon from his hand and ramming into him so hard he fell to the floor. He was prepared, though, and grabbed Abbey's ankle pulling her to the floor. Once she was laying in front of him, his hand still around her ankle, she kicked out with her other foot, hitting him right in the face. The killer groaned, letting go, she scrambled away going for her gun. Suddenly, he was behind her again and knocked her to the floor putting his foot on the middle of her back.

"Such a shame, you are very good at what you do, but my job is simple," he said pressing hard on her back.

Abbey clenched her teeth in pain, trying not to cry out. She reached for her gun, but it was just out of her reach, so maddeningly close and far at the same time. The air was being forced from her lungs as she was grounded into the floor, coughing, she stretched her fingers out, trying to get her gun. She squirmed under his foot, it hurt, but she would not let him kill her. The extra centimeter worked she used the tips of her fingers to edge the gun closer to her. She grabbed the handle, pointing the gun behind her and shooting. The sound was enough for the assassin to hesitate, giving her her chance. She quickly got up making the man stumble backwards as he lost his footing. She fired the gun twice, hitting him in the knee and then the shoulder, wounding but not killing him. He fell to the ground, blood pooling on the wood.

"How the hell did you know my name!" Abbey yelled pointing the gun at his head.

The killer laughed menacingly, "Now why would I tell you that?"

"Because, bleeding out is slow and painful and I know exactly where to place the bullets that will cause you the most suffering," Abbey said darkly.

"Fine. I knew your name because it was in the file, happy?" he said.

"No, why were you sent to kill me?" Abbey continued.

He laughed again, "You were a threat, a threat that had to be taken out. Now, where is this inquiry of yours getting you?"

It was too easy, he was giving her information to readily. At the same time she saw the spark in his eyes she'd seen so many times. In the next second he jumped at her, knife in hand, grazing her right arm as she jumped out of the way. He brought the knife up over her head trying to bring it down, but was stopped as she grabbed his wrist with her hands. She pushed in one direction, he the other, trying to kill her. The knife tip hovered less than an inch from her forehead and stayed like that as they resisted each others force. He grabbed her hair with his free hand, but let go too much with his knife hand, letting her get away. She turned as he threw the knife at her, it flew past her head and she fired at him twice with her gun, killing him.

The sun was just beginning to rise as Abbey exited the "safe" house.

_Yeah, it was safe alright_, she thought sarcastically.

She had changed clothes, cleaned the blood off her hands, face and arm, and wiped the house of prints before she had left. All of her fingerprints were gone, but his remained, if there were any, she doubted it he had been wearing gloves. She got back in the car she had come here with, throwing her gun in the seat next to her. She drove half-conscious of her surroundings, still trying to process how he had managed to get in the house in the first place without tripping any of her traps. Only a few people in her known world could do that, so that gave her part of an answer. Alex Conklin was going to have a lot of explaining to do.

When she arrived at the same house as yesterday, another safe house, and found it in complete upheaval. Agents ran from computer to computer looking at one for a second before moving on to the next.

"Oh, come on folks, we caught a break here! Let's go," Conklin said.

"Okay, I'm up. We're getting grids. Airline, trains, hotels-" an agent said checking his computer.

Abbey would have asked what was going on, but she already had a feeling. Now she knew she wouldn't be able to help with the search: they'd already done it.

"Did you get the address, the street?" asked another agent.

"Gemeinschaft," the agent replied.

_From Marseilles to Switzerland and we didn't have a damn clue, wow, they trained him well_, Abbey thought.

"I got it, I think I got it," another agent said.

"Is it him? Unreal," Conklin said.

Abbey looked up at the big screen on the wall, the picture - however blurry- shocked her: on that screen was a previously-live picture of Jason Bourne.

**A/N: Hope you liked it, getting ready to hit the main story line of this fanfic so be forewarned...:)**


	3. A Little Schooling in Psychology

**A/N: Finally! Wow this chapter was long, I saw a few spots where I could end it but didn't think it fit properly into the story line...so it ended up like this, I'm sure you'll spot those places where I was going to end the chapter but continued anyway, some I erased though. Anyway, here it is...enjoy**

**Chapter 3- A Little Schooling in Psychology**

"Hey, Zürich police are looking for an American man carrying a red bank bag, he just tore up the embassy and put two cops in the hospital last night," Danny Zorn, Conklin's assistant, said holding a telephone.

Conklin paused from doing anything. Abbey knew, if that picture hadn't been enough, the description of the commotion in Zürich sure was. It sounded like something she would do, but there was also a few things she would have thought Bourne would have done differently -being Bourne and all. Something wasn't right, her mind told her this, and apparently Conklin hadn't noticed the same.

"Get everybody up, do it now, I want them all activated," Conklin resumed.

His grim orders hit Abbey like a freight train.

"Wait-" she started.

"Wait, all of them?" Danny said putting the phone face-down on his desk. "At the same time?"

"You heard me, I want Bourne in a body bag by sundown," Conklin replied.

"Sir!" Abbey exclaimed.

Conklin turned to face her, "What?"

Abbey quickly tried to think how she was going to say this without seeming insane.

"Shouldn't we try to make contact with him first? What if something's wrong? I saw the live stream, sir, Bourne doesn't seem like himself. I've read through and processed his files, and many others like his, for years, this just doesn't seem in character of him," she said treading lightly.

"You also know that changing characters is very common in work like his," Conklin replied.

"I do, but killing him without even trying to speak with him probably isn't the best idea. He's one of our best assets-"

"I don't care who he is, if he's turned he could be very dangerous to Treadstone, to all of us. He could expose secrets not even you know about," Conklin said harshly.

Abbey was taken aback by the ferocity of his words, the mere idea of them. She calmed her rising anger for the incompetence of _Treadstone_ before answering Conklin.

"He's still a human being, sir," she replied simply.

"He's much, much more than that, Miss Woods."

The same tape of the Gemeinschaft bank incident played over and over on the computer screen. Abbey was trying to find out just _what_ seemed odd to her that Bourne was doing. She had to convince Conklin that Bourne hadn't turned, and by God, she had to do it fast. Two days later Conklin had been digging into the woman that Bourne had gotten to drive them to Paris. They were getting closer to the Treadstone safe house and that would not be good for Bourne or the poor woman. Abbey had gotten nowhere that would help her case against Conklin's death order. She was also driven by her own safety; if the other contacts failed to take out Bourne -and she had no doubt they would, Bourne knew what he was doing- she was next in line. She did _not_ want to die, though, she probably wouldn't try to kill Bourne in the first place. This is where those long years in med school came into good use, if she couldn't have a career in the field she could still safe a life.

She had enhanced the image as much as she could before she finally realized something.

_His eyes, oh my God, his _eyes_!_ Abbey thought.

She had seen eyes like those before, once before, when she had attended med school. They had worked with the poor man who had remembered nothing of his past, not even his name. This man, the way he did thinks mechanically but didn't really know how he was doing them, just doing by instinct. This is what Abbey saw when she looked at the man on her computer screen: Jason Bourne, one of the most valuable assets of Treadstone, was an amnesiac. Presenting this case to Conklin, however, would been even harder than what she'd just done. She had no rock-hard evidence and Conklin seemed intent on killing Bourne no matter what evidence pointed away from it. Abbey sighed, sitting back in the chair. She was screwed, Bourne was dead if she couldn't prove that he was innocent of turning. He had no damn clue what he was doing! Probably not even who he was! He was being hunted for a crime he most likely couldn't even fathom, and so was the woman with him. The stakes rose as the realization hit her; two lives, not one, _two, _hung in the balance. Two innocent people would die if she couldn't get Conklin to realize what she had. The stress was killing her inside and it hadn't even been half an hour.

"Let me give you a little lesson in psychology, _sir,_" Abbey's voice was raised now.

She had been arguing with Conklin for at least five minutes now, giving him every bit of evidence she had found and having it thrown right back in her face by the Treadstone field director.

"I know that you know my credentials to school you in psychology, so you need to _listen _to me. That man out there is _lost_, he's probably confused and sending _assassins_ after him will just make him reach to that deep instinct. An instinct that we put in him, we created, and now you are trying to destroy him. My God, he doesn't know what he's doing, but he's dangerous. You don't need to be pushing him away, you need to bring him in, you need to talk to him. I remember that you used to work with Bourne before Treadstone, you two were teammates in some super-classified operation and now you want to peg him as 'beyond-salvage' without even considering other options?" to say Abbey had had it with Treadstone would have been an understatement.

Conklin paused, not saying anything for a few seconds before proceeding cautiously, "First of all your 'psychology' has a little hole in it, Miss Woods, how exactly do you think Bourne got amnesia in the first place?"

"Extreme stress to the body mixed with a traumatizing event could lead the brain to exclude all memory of the pain. It's a coping strategy of the body, very common with survivors of events like a severe stabbing or getting shot and almost dying. Your body is wired not to remember the pain, it could also lead to forgetting things even further back than that, resulting in the amnesia," Abbey said.

Now she saw she had Conklin's attention, finally, she'd given him viable information that he could process in that mind of his. She hoped it was enough for him to believe her, to make him call off the manhunt for Bourne. Above all things, she saw that Conklin knew she had beaten his mindset, she had uncovered the truth he had not been able to see. She had found the good in someone where he had thought none existed, she had showed Bourne had no bad intentions toward them when Conklin had believed he was to be their ruin. The room resumed its normal volume from the previous silence when one of the analysts like Abbey walked in, Nikki.

"Sir, he killed our man," Nikki said.

Abbey looked at Conklin and he at her, her heart sank with Nikki's words, this wasn't going to help her case.

"That doesn't sound like an amnesiac, Miss Woods," Conklin said to her walking away after Nikki.

She buried her face in her hands as they walked away, Nikki couldn't have picked any worse a time to reveal that. Conklin and Nikki stopped near the exit to the safe house, Abbey catching up with them. Nikki continued out of the door, but Conklin stood there waiting for Abbey.

"Sir, I want to talk to you about something that happened two nights ago, I was going to tell you but then Bourne resurfaced and it didn't seem important anymore," Abbey said.

"Yes?"

"An assassin infiltrated the safe house you sent me to. I took him out, but the fact he even found me leads me to wonder-"

"You think we had something to do with it? Well, I hate to tell you, Miss Woods, we didn't, no one even knew where that safe house was besides you. Hell, I didn't even know. You're very valuable to Treadstone, none of us would ever think of killing you," Conklin replied.

"Well, apparently someone with information wanted me dead," Abbey replied walking away.

Almost, she had almost had Conklin right where she wanted him, but now the stakes had risen, now they were playing a whole new game.

There was no doubt, Jason Bourne had no clue what he was or why people were after him or even _who_ was after him. That was the dangerous part, otherwise, Abbey believed he wouldn't kill unless he was _threatened_ by the unknown. That's what Conklin couldn't get, Bourne needed help, not people trying to kill him. Now that she knew Conklin wouldn't listen to her, she had to take it to the next level, she had to use her knowledge and skills to help Bourne _directly_, she had to find him.

The first step for Abbey was getting out of Treadstone without being noticed. She knew she would have to wait until things died down to leave, right now things were too hyped up. Nikki had called Conklin from the scene and told him everything Bourne had done at the house. The asset had gone out of the window of the two-story apartment complex, but with injuries that were not consistent with the fall. She wandered around, pulling files on Bourne and reading them trying to find any information she didn't have on him. She would have to revisit life rules and codes she had buried in her mind to do what she was about to attempt. Those rules and codes she had buried for a _reason_, and it was a damn good reason, too. They were necessary, however, if she wanted to find Bourne or stop Conklin from killing him it would be nearly impossible without them.

Two hours later, Abbey pulled on her black jacket, and, using those suppressed skills, snuck out of the Treadstone safe house. It hadn't been easy with everyone running around sporadically unlike the usual structured schedules. Walking down the sidewalk of the French street she considered her options, all of which lead to Bourne. The first thing she needed to do was change her look, she left that building with people who were unsuspecting about what she was going to do, but in a few hours they would be hunting her. Conklin would _not_ like this at all, he would be the main one hunting her and hopefully that would pull his full-focus away from Bourne. She went in a small boutique off to the side of the walkway where she saw many options of clothes, however, she would have to blend with any crowd she may have to use for cover. She went for a casual-but-classy look, dropping her jacket for a wool trench coat and black leggings with knee-high boots.

The Paris streets were not familiar to her, yet she managed not to get lost. Thinking back on all those years she had spent at Treadstone she realized relying solely on her instincts wouldn't be necessary. Though, she had to find Bourne first and the house wasn't a very good place to start considering he would probably be hundreds of miles away from there by now. Right now, Abbey had to get as far away as she could from the Treadstone safehouse, that was the second step, she had to get lost. The third step was be to let Conklin know how she really felt, but that would come much later after she was sure he wouldn't be able to track her. He wouldn't be expecting anything at the moment because he didn't even know she was getting ready to become his second biggest threat to his perfect little operation. She had always liked Conklin as the field director, he was constant in making sure his decisions were logical and safe for everyone they effected. Lately though, after they had lost Bourne, his head wasn't on his shoulders, which had led to this mess. She wondered what had snapped in him for this to happen, she assumed it had something to do with the fact that Bourne and Conklin had once been allies in war, almost friends. Abbey knew how strong a bond like that was, how it was almost like friendship but with different terms, and she knew what it was like for that to be broken by unexpected events. Abbey soon found herself at a train station scoping out the security cameras and working to avoid them on her way to purchase a ticket. Walking away from the ticket counter, Abbey looked up from her ticket into the crowd surrounding her. In seconds she froze, her eyes fixed on one figure in the massive crowd. It was a man who didn't stand out from everyone else, to anyone else but Abbey. He had no defining features that could be used to pick him out among twenty other people standing near him. Abbey quickly cast her glance away from him in an attempt to avoid him seeing her. It wasn't that he knew her, because he didn't, it was that she knew he was feeling threatened and he would run from anyone that looked like they were following him. Who she was looking at was a hunted man, it was Jason Bourne. Her train didn't come for a while so she decided to walk around while still keeping an eye on him. She watched him curiously, but he didn't do anything, he watched the train boards for a while before going over to the bag lockers and storing a red bag in one of them. When Abbey was watching her train arrive she was also watching Bourne leave the station, he hadn't purchased a ticket, talked to any contacts, nothing. As the doors to the train slid shut so did her chance of ever talking to Bourne, the one person she was fighting so hard to protect.

An hour later two women sat across from each other at a small café table to the inside of a busy sidewalk. The people rushing around them would help conceal their faces from the small amount of scattered traffic cameras, both knew this.

"Why, with all your contacts, do you need _my_ help?" the woman with shining, blond hair asked forcibly.

"I need someone I can trust, you're the only one I could reach before-" the other woman said.

"Before what!?"

"Before they come after me."

"Damn it, Abigail! They'll kill me for even _looking_ atyou! I'm dead," the blond said in an angered whisper.

"No, or I wouldn't have come to you. I wouldn't put you at risk like that, I promise. I left, alright? I left and they don't even know it yet. I have an hour before they figure it out and start searching, anything I did between these two hours they'll never look at because they don't know _when_ exactly I left," Abbey said.

"How did you leave anyway?" the blond asked.

"I literally just walked out the front door."

"You're kidding."

"No, and that's why they don't know, Charlie, because I'm good at covering my trails and time-lines. When I call them, for all they know, I _just_ left their organization and I'll make it seem that way to keep you safe."

The two sat for a few minutes, looking past each other's shoulders for any sign of people following them. They engaged in regular conversation after they decided there were no threats, enjoying the ordinary pastries on the plates in front of them. When they got up to leave they used their knowledge of the security cameras in the area, or lack thereof, to walk separate ways without making anymore contact.

The small, bland motel on the outskirts of Paris was the very definition of untraceable. There was one pay-phone, the guests paid cash only and the guest books were handwritten. Abbey had no doubts Treadstone would trace her to this place, but by then she would be long gone, on another continent possibly. They would send people after her like they had before and, once again, she would take down every person they sent for her until they got tired of chasing her to no avail. With Bourne in their sights as well, she had no doubt they would get tired very quickly. Risking this, what she was in the process of doing, was dangerous, however it was highly necessary. She was going to deviate from her original plan and stay most of the night at this motel. That had always been her flaw in her abilities, she would fall back in her old habits and forget she was still human, a human who needed to sleep to function.

_Sleep is the most important thing you can have in your arsenal_.

Those twelve words of hers would become golden rule while she worked to track down Bourne and keep herself off of Treadstone's radar. She rigged the room with simple traps and warnings similar to those she had used with the safehouse before she situated her small amount of belongings and took a shower. She was not stupid, though, to go in a confined space such as a bathroom with a single way out without protection or a spotter outside the door, so she put her gun on the sink just beside the shower. When she finished she felt even more alert and awake with no bad feelings about being found. Early next morning she would call Conklin and give him a piece of her mind, but she had to be cautious not to stay on the line too long, a rookie mistake. Luckily, for her, there was a clock on the wall across from the phone she could easily keep her eye on while she was talking. Right now, though, she lay flat on the bed in a complete change in clothing style, one that still remained ordinary, but was far more casual than her last choice. Only when her gun lay within arm's reach of her bed did she finally feel like she could sleep. Around the middle of the night a shrill car alarm made Abby bolt upright in the bed and grab her gun quicker than even she expected. She sat with her back against the headboard, gun in hand, for an hour to make sure no one was coming to get her before she fell back asleep because of pure exhaustion.

"_What is your name?"_

"_Eliza Groves," she answered._

_She looked around the small, square room only to find nothing of interest in it except for the man sitting across from her. Her head still buzzed from the accident a few days ago, but no one had told her anything else that she wanted to know, the fate of her team, the mission, or why the hell she was even here. Thinking slightly harder she did know why she was here: she _wanted_ this, she wanted to become a ghost._

The next morning, before the sun had risen and when the moon was still high in the sky, Abbey was down at the motel pay-phone watching the clock as she picked up the phone. She knew Conklin would be there because of the entire Bourne situation that had to be monitored twenty-four-seven. The number stored by her impeccable memory flew from her thoughts onto the phone in her hand. She waited patiently for the ringing while someone at the Treadstone safehouse would be puzzled trying to figure out who it was.

"Who is this and how did you get this number?" the angered voice of Conklin answered.

"My mistake, I believe I have the wrong number," Abbey replied in a light tone.

"Woods, what the hell are you doing? Where the hell _are_ you?"

"I believe I should ask you the same question, _sir_, have you reconsidered my theory?"

"No, because it's wrong. Now come back in right away and you can go find Bourne yourself," Conklin said.

"Why? So I can _attempt_ to kill him and be killed myself? Maybe you'll get rid of two agents that way so you can have room for the newer agents I've heard about. No need for the extra months of training, just rely on a few pills and a week of training. Conklin, _you're _wrong about Bourne, you won't even try to help him! Not just him either, many other people who are going to die in this personal war of yours, innocent people. I refuse to tolerate it anymore," Abbey said still keeping an eye on the clock, she had to go in less than a minute.

"_What_ are you saying, Miss Woods?"

"I'm done. Send whoever you want after me, but, I promise, they'll never get close enough. Good luck dealing with Bourne on your own, I sure hope he doesn't put you all into ruin," she said sarcastically, hanging up the phone just in time.

She grabbed up her bag, stowing her gun inside, and leaving the motel as quick as possible. Now she would disappear as she had before, for good.

**A/N: This was fresh off my document so sorry for any typos/ errors. Hope you enjoyed, I dont know how long it will be until next chapter cause school is starting up again x.x I will try to make next chapter shorter so I can get it out faster...alright hope everyone had a good holiday and a good New Year's Eve tomorrow. **


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